Love Me to Death (Underveil) (4 page)

“I don’t understand.”

Shit
. “Can you teleport or read minds or do anything unusual?”

She reached down and pulled the covers back over herself defensively; her blue eyes flashed anger as they met his. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have any powers. I’m just a regular person who had a regular life until you came along and screwed everything up.”

Her surprising defiance caused a wave of adrenaline to roll through him. “Kiss your regular life good-bye, princess.” He ripped the cover back down and grabbed her ankle. “Get out of that bed, or I’ll make you wish you had.”

She glared at him, eyes narrowed. For some reason, she didn’t seem as frightened of him as he thought she should be. Most of his victims practically soiled themselves in terror from his mere presence.

His hand was enormous on her pale, narrow ankle. The skin on her leg was smooth and soft. He was suppressing the urge to run his hand up her calf. In fact, he was suppressing the urge to do a lot of things. He cursed as he noticed her slender form was completely visible through the sheer cotton hospital gown. He raised his gaze to her face, focusing on her soft, full lips. Big mistake.

Nikolai had expected to have to fight the urge to torture the progeny of his father’s murderer, but he had never anticipated fighting the urge to fuck her.

Maybe he should just kill her here and now. She wasn’t really human. She could see through the Veil, right?

Before he could withdraw the sword, Elena got out of bed. She slid out on the side opposite him, clutching the back of the gown. “Okay,” she whispered. “You said we needed to get out of here. I’ll go. But I don’t have any clothes. They must have cut them off me. I’ll have to wear this hospital gown.”

He ran his eyes up and down her body, amazed at how she affected him. She was not his type at all. He liked stronger women who could play rough. This creature was too breakable for his tastes, but his body didn’t seem to concur with that assessment. “You don’t need clothes. You’ll be invisible to humans,” he said.

“Where are we going?”

“To your home.”

“Why?”

“We’ll wait in private for you to embrace the Underveil, so I can kill you.”

Chapter Three

E
lena almost lost her nerve when Nikolai stormed across the ER exam room. His sheer size was terrifying enough but he grabbed her with such force she was certain the bones in her wrist would break.

Pull it together
, she warned herself,
don’t let him see your fear
. There had to be a way out of this situation. She just needed time to figure it out, and going with him would give her more time than hanging out here, as evidenced by his tendency to yank out his sword and threaten her. Digging down deep, she found the remaining vestiges of her courage and her voice, which, to her relief, didn’t squeak.

“There’s no need to bully me. I said I’d go with you.” She jerked her arm in an ineffectual attempt to loosen his grip. “You’re hurting me.”

He leaned down, putting his face on her level. “You don’t know what pain is.”

“And I don’t want to. I’ll cooperate. Please…just lighten up a little.”

To her relief, he relaxed his hold. With his free hand, he reached into his front pocket and pulled out a long silver cord. “Move and die,” he warned, releasing her wrist.

She knew without a doubt he meant it. She stood still as stone while he looped an end of the cord around her wrist and then, wearing a deep scowl, fastened the other end around his own, muttering some incantation in a bizarre language.

The thin cord shimmered as if liquid mercury undulated within. A slight current emanated from it. Energy traveled from his body to hers. Mesmerized, she marveled at the waves of color traversing from her wrist along the length of reflective surface. “What is that?” she whispered.

The deep, masculine timbre of Nikolai’s voice pulled Elena out of her stupor. “A soul bond forged by light elves, parasite. It’s a tendril of your soul you see moving through it. If it breaks, you die.”

She stared into his mirthless, golden eyes. “Why are you doing this?”

“Beats the hell out of handcuffs. Now, let’s get moving before the Underveil is exposed. We need to get to your home so I don’t have to kill you here. It would be messy. Too many humans, and since you are unconverted, your body would be visible to them.”

From the look on his face, she could tell he was absolutely serious. She was going to die. Why did it bother her so much, when she had accepted death at the convenience store?

Nikolai began chanting in an odd language. Her body felt strange, like she was lighter or buoyant, somehow. He stopped chanting and looked into her eyes. “Think of your home.” He put his large, warm hands on either side of her neck. “Close your eyes and picture it. Picture both of us there.”

She considered screaming. Maybe the detectives would hear her and help. The thought was fleeting. By the time they could react, she’d be dead. They were no match for this guy anyway. If he could pull part of her soul out of her body and hold it hostage in a silver chain, what else could he do? Her death was inevitable. Might as well do it where nobody else got hurt.

“You know what I am and what I do. Don’t defy me, creature. No tricks. Imagine your home.”

She had no clue what he was, but she knew killing was a big part of it. Resigned to limit casualties to herself, she closed her eyes and pictured her living room with its tattered furniture, out-of-date wood paneling, and worn-out carpeting. Nikolai resumed his chant. A rustling behind her broke her concentration. She opened her eyes to see a nurse opening the curtain on the hallway wall of the exam room.

His hands tightened around her throat. “Little parasite, if you piss me off, you will suffer a death so slow and horrible, you will
beg
for your life to end.”

She couldn’t breathe. “Please,” she managed to croak. “Worried about nurse seeing us.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the nurse cleaning up the room in order to get it ready for the next patient as if Elena and the death angel weren’t in the room, and as if he weren’t choking the life out of her.

Nikolai loosened his grip, and she gasped for air. He balanced the tips of his fingers on either side of her neck again. “We are under the human Veil. She cannot see or hear us. Now, concentrate on your home and us in it.” He repositioned his hands to the side of her neck. “And don’t fuck with me.”

Don’t fuck with him… The sad thing was that instead of serving as a threat, his words caused a warm flush to roll straight through her body. Though his word choice was not what she would have used, that was exactly what her body wanted to do. It had to be the result of near-death trauma. Elena closed her eyes and envisioned the tattered, velour sofa in her living room. As she created this mental picture, Nikolai ran his fingers over the sensitive skin of her neck and started chanting again. His incredible smell filled her nose, and as she pictured the sofa, she imagined herself lying over him while he used those long fingers to do something other than murder her. She was certain she was going insane, because even though she knew this guy was going to kill her, she wanted him.

There was a whooshing sound and a flash of heat. With a hard slam to her senses, Elena found herself exactly as she had envisioned: on her sofa, astride Nikolai, wearing only her hospital gown. Heat seeped through his jeans, warming the bare skin of her thighs.

He groaned, eyes closed.

She adjusted slightly, centering the hard ridge of him just…there…

He hissed air through his teeth and froze. His golden eyes flew open, and then narrowed. “What kind of magic is this?” he growled. “You have picked the wrong man to provoke.”

He shoved her off of him onto the floor as he sat up. She landed on all fours and scrambled backward until the silver cord pulled taut. She sat back on her heels and tucked the gown closed behind her. Pulling deep, she calmed herself with her father’s words.
Do not ever let your enemy know the extent of your fear or what it is you desire the most.
Expanding her lungs with a deep breath, she forced her body to still and waited for his next move.

His hateful glare was terrifying. “What is it you want, parasite? Do you think you can bargain for your life with your body? Think again. I’m not that weak.” He jerked the cord. “I could snap this and kill you right now, but unlike your pathetic species, I don’t kill humans, and I don’t fuck my enemies.” He turned sideways as if looking at her were painful.

Elena took a deep breath and willed her heart to stop racing. What in the world had just happened? He seemed to think she had intentionally provoked him—that she wanted to hurt him, somehow. He considered her his enemy, yet she didn’t even know who he was. Hell, she didn’t even know
what
he was. He kept talking about species and weird things she knew nothing about as if she were a part of some alternate dimension. Nothing made sense anymore. The only thing she knew for certain was that making him angry wouldn’t keep her alive. And right now, Elena Arcos wanted to live.

Perhaps a more docile demeanor would work better. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, shifting to her knees on the wood floor. She pulled the back of the hospital gown together and tucked it under her backside. “I don’t know how these things work, and didn’t know you were going to replicate my vision. I can’t even imagine why I thought of us like that. Really, I’m sorry.”

N
ikolai paced the length of the room, trying to wrap his head around her words. Vampires didn’t offer excuses, and they never apologized. Never. Yet, this woman had just given a plausible explanation and an eloquent apology.

She was an utter enigma. He had never wanted a woman like he wanted this one, which was why he had reacted so violently when he found her on top of him. As he invoked the spell to move them, he was imagining her in that exact position. Perhaps she had lied about her powers and could read minds after all. Or maybe it was just that she felt the pull, too.

Wanting her was in complete opposition to his nature and purpose. Killing her would be the final act in avenging his father’s death. It had to be done, and he had to be the one to do it.

As soon as he could carry out justice, he would begin fulfilling his father’s last request. He would be free to find the Uniter and stop the war that was brewing.

Diminutive and frail, she remained on her knees next to the sofa. As he watched her tremble, something in his chest caught, as if he had been pinched on the inside.
What the hell?

“Are you okay?” he asked reflexively, kicking himself internally for being so weak.

She didn’t look up. “No. I’m hypoglycemic. I’m going to faint.”

“What does that mean?”

Her voice was barely above a whisper. “My blood sugar is too low. I need sugar.”

He stood. “Where is your kitchen?” She didn’t even look up. “Hey. Look at me.” His voice was softer than he had intended.

She looked up, her eyes full of tears.
Oh shit.
Women’s tears undid him.

“How can I help you?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I’m not here to torture you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “No, you’re just here to
kill
me.”

She was right, and for some reason, it made him feel like shit. For the first time in his centuries of life, doing the right thing didn’t seem like the right thing to do.

Just moments earlier, she had been full of fire, and now she was an empty shell. He needed to get her to eat, but couldn’t go unless she came with him because of the cord.

“Can you stand?” he asked.

She didn’t react, but stared listlessly at the floor, still shaking.

He pulled her up by the shoulders. Eyes glazed, she teetered slightly. He scooped her up into his arms before she collapsed. He didn’t know anything about her condition, but she said that food would help. She had told the detectives that she had gone to the convenience store because her blood sugar had been low. That was hours ago.

He strode toward a door to the right of a boxy, old-fashioned television. “Can you die from this?”

Her eyes were closed. “Why do you care?”

He wished he knew. He pushed the door open with his foot. Bingo. It was the kitchen. Still cradling her in his arms, he opened the tiny refrigerator and pulled out a carton of orange juice, trying to avoid whacking her head on anything in the process. When he set her on the Formica countertop, she was able to keep herself upright, so he headed for the cabinet next to the refrigerator, which seemed like the right spot for a glass. The cord on his wrist jerked, and he spun around just in time to catch her before he yanked her off the counter. He had forgotten he had bound her soul.

Growling a stream of profanity, he righted her and grabbed the juice carton. As he opened it, she leaned against his shoulder and sighed, which caused that uncomfortable pinching sensation in his chest again. He needed to get the juice in her before she passed out. He held the carton to her lips. “Come on, drink this. It will make you feel better.”

“Screw you.” Her voice was slurred and weak. Clamping her lips tight, she shook her head.

He growled in his throat and grabbed her lower jaw, pulling down to pry her mouth open. She shook her head again and jerked her jaw from his fingers. “You just want me strong so it’s more fun to kill me.”

“Slayers do not kill for fun.” It was his job. His duty to keep the Underveil controlled and contained. She believed him some kind of monster, and for some reason, that bugged the shit out of him. He shook his head. What should he care what a vampire thought of him? “Listen to me, Elena Arcos, you will—”

Ding-dong.

“Are you expecting someone?” he asked.

“No.” From the startled look on her face, he knew she was telling the truth.

Ding-dong.

She appeared to be holding her breath.

“Elena?” A woman’s voice called from far away. “You okay, darlin’?”

“Who is that?” he asked.

“My aunt Uza.”

“Is she human?”

Her eyes narrowed. “God, I’m sick of this batshit crazy human/nonhuman business. Of course she is.”

“Elena, honey, I know you’re in there,” the voice called from the outside of the house.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her from the counter to her feet. “Get rid of her.” Practically carrying her, he guided her to the door. “Fuck it up, and I’ll kill her too.”

“What a charmer.” She leaned against the front door. “I’m fine, Uza. Going to bed. See you tomorrow, okay?”

There was a considerable pause, then a chuckle. “Hottie-totty didn’t waste any time then, huh?”

Elena’s startled gaze swung to his.

“And drink the juice, honey. You’re gonna need it,” she called. “Have fun!”

Have fun?

Elena teetered, and he tightened his grip just in time to keep her from hitting the floor.
Shit.
She’d fainted.
Now what?
Nikolai scooped her up and looked though the peephole in the front door. An old woman wearing a floral mu-mu hobbled down the sidewalk in front of the house. Abruptly, she turned around as if she could see him through the door and gave a thumbs-up.

“The hottie-totty didn’t waste time?”
What the hell did that mean? He stared down at the fragile woman in his arms. Maybe it was customary for her to bring men to her home and the old woman knew it. Like lightning, rage bolted through his body. Surely, the sexual habits of his enemy—his soon to be
dead
enemy—should be of no relevance to him.

He carried her to the kitchen and grabbed the orange juice. He had to revive her in order to…what? To kill her? But she was painfully human. Humans were not within his jurisdiction.